


Odds and (boyfri)Ends

by chromochaotic



Series: Thank You Tumblr [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bodyswap, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Geology, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Skating, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromochaotic/pseuds/chromochaotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bite-sized fluff!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Marco is Just Attracted to Dorks Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A modern AU thing I wanted to write after visiting the small town my aunt lives in and its ice rink... It’s just how Sasha and Connie being little shits leads to jeanmarco being winter cuties for a bit.

“ _God damn it,_ you guys!”

“What?” Connie laughed as he glided by Jean, hands raised in a display of innocence. “It’s not our fault you have awful balance and can’t ice skate for shit.”

“Yeah, Jean,” Sasha added, coming to a graceful stop beside the spot where Jean had toppled onto the ice. “Why are you trying to skate so fast, anyway?”

Jean glared at both of them as he struggled (really,  _the struggle was real_ ) to his feet. “I’m just trying to keep up with you two, considering I drove all the way out to this dinky town and its tiny skating rink to see you!”

Sasha giggled, starting to circle smoothly on her skates around Jean. “Awww, you hear that Connie? Jean just wants to spend time with us!”

Connie grinned, swerving through other random ice skaters to return to his friends’ side. “Yeah! Ain’t he just the sweetest?” At this point, Sasha and Connie were on Jean’s left and right, sparking a tiny,  _evil_  flame in Connie’s head. “Hey, Sasha… what do you say we give Jean a hand? I think all he really needs to get his skating legs is a  _push_  in the right direction.”

Sasha listened intently, head tilted to the side, before something  _clicked_  and she smiled maniacally back at Connie. “Oh, I think that’s  _exactly_  what he needs.” Her gaze shifted to Jean, and in that moment he knew fear.

“Wait. Wait, waitwaitwait guys what the fuck are you doing? No, no, let go of my hands stop moving  _oh my god if you guys slingshot me I swear to God I will end y—”_

“Be free!” Sasha squealed, as she and Connie catapulted Jean out of their grips toward the opposite end of the skating rink.

Jean, about as in control of his movement at this point as newborn foal, let out a technicolor-bright string of expletives as he careened away. He needed to stop before he hit the far wall of the rink, oh god,  _stop stop stop—_

Out of nowhere, something big, solid, but forgivingly soft wrapped around Jean and interrupted his momentum; unfortunately, nothing was well-balanced enough to deflect all that speed, and Jean again met with the familiar texture of grated ice pressing into his cheek. This time, though, there was the bonus of the big soft warm  _something_  tumbling down on top of him.

“Oh gosh, oh no, are you okay?” The something fretted, extending a mittened hand and using that to raise Jean back to his feet. “You just looked like you were going so fast and I just jumped out there without thinking, and, oh god, you hit the ice anyway and I just fell too—”

“Hey, I’m fine,” Jean chuckled, brushing flecks of ice from his pants before standing up completely. “Seriously, you saved me from crashing into that wall after my two dumbass friends tried to—to…” Jean trailed off, eyes wide.

Across from him was one of the cutest slices of Nowheresville pie that Jean had ever seen. His savior, slightly taller than himself, still gazed at him with big brown eyes filled with concern. He wore a knitted baby blue scarf and matching earmuffs, which framed his neat, dark brown bangs. And, completing the adorable boy-next-door picture, was a round button nose and generously freckled cheeks that were both flushed from the cold.

“Are… you sure you’re okay?” the boy asked with a smile, head canted slightly.

“Y-yeah!” Jean yelped.  _Even his smile…_  “I was just, uh… er…”

Again throwing a wrench into Jean’s plan for eventual mental stability, Connie skated over and yelled out, “Marco! Hey, man, I didn’t know you were heading out to the rink today!”

The boy turned his gaze away from Jean, and things felt a bit colder.

“Oh, Connie! Hey, is this a friend of yours?”

“Hm?” Connie’s eyes darted to Jean, and he shrugged. “Nah, don’t know him.” When Jean started to form fists with both hands Connie relented, cackling, “No I totally know him, he’s my friend from middle school.” Connie came to rest beside Jean and Marco. “Jean, this is Marco; we’re over at Rose High together now. Er, or are you two acquainted already?”

Jean’s eyes narrowed again. “Yeah, about as acquainted as  _my fist_  and your face will be since you threw me toward the fucking  _wall—_ ”

Marco lurched forward between the boys, arms held out placatingly. “Hey, hey, everything turned out okay, right?”

Jean rolled his eyes as Connie stuck his tongue out toward Jean. His gaze fell on Marco, though, as he remembered what had prevented the terrible turn of events. “Hey, Marco, yeah? I owe you for stopping me, really. Like, I could, I don’t know…” Jean wracked his mind for some way he could show his appreciation for this utter  _gift from God_ , “…buy you one of those souvenir Christmas ornaments from the skate rental stand, maybe? Or something?”

“You really don’t have to!” Marco replied, looking awkward.

“Yeah, man, he’s Jewish anyway,” Connie added from somewhere to Jean’s side.

Jean’s mind went blank as he felt his face heat up more than it already was. At this rate, this guy was going to think he was a total idiot…

“Maybe you could thank me with, uh…” Marco looked away, and even though the blush was already there, it looked especially appropriate in that moment. “… a date?”

"Ooooooooh Jean snagged a cutie!" Sasha harped as she skated by. 

Jean didn’t even register annoyance, though, as his face broke out into a dazzling grin.

And that was how Connie and Sasha slingshotting Jean across an ice rink got him a date over concession stand hot cocoa with the sweetest boy he’d ever meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …yeah, sorry, that’ all I got. after this it’s just headcanons like
> 
> \+ during their first meeting marco thinks jean’s “really cute” which in normal-speak translates to “hella hot omg look at his punk hair and his golden eyes and his sharp nose and his leather jacket and his cartilage piercings and his smile-that-makes-my-loins-burn-like-fire.”  
> \+ they meet up a lot of times so marco can teach jean how to ice skate for reals and it’s super cute with lots of hand holding and scarf-sharing and cuddling afterward to warm up  
> \+ one time during these lessons jean “accidentally” collides with Marco and “not-on-purpose” ends up with his face inches away from the other, and he waits until Marco laughs at him for being a dork to kiss him  
> \+ and just hella cute playful winter babies ugh
> 
> \+ oh also i just like the idea of modern marco being kind of jewish for reasons that make no sense  
> \+ and even though sasha and connie are kind of little shits in this they really do care about jean and are some of his best bros fo srs


	2. 11 New Texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon Prompt (but I stalked the tags and know who it's from woops hi i love you): "college AU Jean being grumpy in class bc he's bored and already knows all the stuff and he's just fussy like argh this is so mundane but then he gets a series of sweet texts from Marco like "just thinkin about you and wanted to let you know <3" and stuff like that and then Jean's just like baahhh my boyfriend is so great and then the teacher calls on him and he's all uhh what or something~"

_Things that I would rather be doing than sitting in this class,_  Jean scribbled at the top of his notebook.

_1\. eating glass  
_ _2\. sniffing Connie’s cleats_  
 _3\. riding a tandem bike with Eren_ ~~Yay~~   ~~Yea~~   ~~Jae~~

Jean scowled at his paper, then not-so-gently put his pencil down and stared around at his class.

Intro Biology was probably the most useless university requirement Jean had ever heard of. When it came down to it, he could ace the tests just by skimming the textbook, and AP credits assured that after this semester his pre-law ass would never need to take another science class, anyway. From his survey of the room, Jean gathered that most of the other students felt the same way. One guy halfway down his row was on his iPhone, dominating in Robot Unicorn Attack; another girl one row forward and three seats to the right was crocheting what Jean assumed was a winter hat. 

_Fucking mandatory attendance policy…_

Just as Jean glanced at the projector screen, considering at least copying down his teacher’s notes even though they were grabbed word-for-word from the textbook’s chapter summary, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Jean was ecstatic for the distraction. Unlocking the phone’s home screen, he felt an excited flutter in his chest—still, after three years of being together,  _god_ —at seeing the text was from Marco. 

**Marco:** just thinkin about you and wanted to let you know <3

Jean wheezed, trying to hold back his happy laugh; sometimes he couldn’t comprehend how his boyfriend functioned. It wasn’t human. He thought about texting back, as the instructor almost certainly wouldn’t notice, but just thinking that probably jinxed his chances and he would now definitely get called out on it. Instead, Jean set the phone on his leg so it was slightly hidden beneath the cover of his desk.

Not too long after, there was another text.

**Marco:**  here’s a list of things you did this week that made me happy c:

Jean quirked his lips, reading the following series of texts with a growing smile. He and Marco both seemed to be into list-making lately.

**Marco:** 1\. kissed my cheek before you left 

**Marco:**  2. played with my hair when we were falling asleep

**Marco:** 3\. sang call me maybe in the shower this morning (thats right, i heard you!! ;P)

**Marco:** 4\. had a wonderful smile c:

**Marco:** 5\. traded cheesy pokemon pick-up lines with me

**Marco:**  6. got a bit hands-on showing me how to make that omelette ;)

**Marco:** 7\. gave me your hoodie after dinner saturday

**Marco:** 8\. laughed at my lettuce joke (seriously Jean no one laughs at that one. who even are you)

**Marco:** 9\. walked into the room

**Marco:** 10\. found that new ben and jerry’s flavor

**Marco:** speaking of that ice cream, let’s try it after class!

**Marco:** we only have 1 clean spoon in the apartment, tho, so… 

**Marco:** guess we’ll have to share c:

Jean couldn’t hold back the goofy grin now.  _Jesus tap-dancing Christ, how does this boy exist? How am I the one dating him? Wait, when he said share the ice cream, did he mean like feed each other with the spoon or take a bite and then give it to the other by—_

"Mr. Kirschtein?"

Jean flinched, eyes darting up and away from the phone now in his lap to stare like a deer in headlights at the biology instructor. “Uh, er, sorry, what was that?”

Nearby students seemed to be glancing expectantly back and forth between the teacher and himself, and Jean wondered if they were waiting on him for something. What had he missed while he was thinking of Marco? Was this really his luck?

The instructor sighed, rolling her eyes. “Nothing, Mr. Kirschtein, just seeing if you could explain how spermatids figure into spermatogenisis considering you were studying your own rather intently just now. But I guess I can call on someone a little more attentive, in any case… Ah, Ms. Lens, please…”

Jean sank into his seat, feeling his ears flushing.  _Figures…_

Still, he couldn’t stay sulking for too long; in under a minute, his phone buzzed again. He read the text with a soft smile.

**Marco:** hurry home. <3


	3. Seeing Through Your Eyes. ...Literally. I'm not kidding.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [svanur](http://svanur.tumblr.com/): "Got time for a JeanMarco bodyswap?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [that one Jean fan VA and his Jean x Listener Audio](http://snk-smut-voices.tumblr.com/post/62880353962/as-requested-last-night) because sweet colossal titan was it hot. So. This one's a little (lot) (very very) suggestive.

“’Cruel and unusual’ could not begin to cover this day,” Jean muttered. Marco, wriggling into his (Jean’s?) sleepwear after a long day of training, only chuckled. It was a lower, raspier chuckle than usual, because it came out of  _Jean’s mouth_.

As Jean stared at his—no, Marco’s face in the washroom mirror’s reflection, his mind finally gave up on stressing over the situation and went completely blank. He simply gazed with eyes that weren’t really his, taking in the strange combination of his usual flat expression combined with Marco’s sweet, jovial features. However, this staring led to him feeling more and more uncomfortable, until finally he had to at least  _try_  to crack a smile.

The resulting strained grimace made Jean choke on his own spit because that was absolutely not something that would ever belong on Marco’s face. He coughed forcefully, causing Marco to approach him in concern, but the other boy relaxed when Jean started laughing through the outburst.

“Sweet Wall Sina, I just gave you the weirdest expression!” Jean wheezed. As his laughter died off, he saw Marco lean toward the mirror, intrigued.

“Like this?” he asked, proceeding to stick out Jean’s tongue, scrunch up one eye, and widen the other alarmingly.

Jean smirked. “Yeah, yeah, real funny there, Marco Polo.” Rolling his eyes fondly, he looked back to the mirror, lips still quirked. Jean ended up staring hard at the way Marco’s mouth had settled… How, when he reflexively went to wet his lips, it was Marco’s tongue that flicked out and Marco’s perfect, pink lips that ended up soft and shining.

_Shit_. More aware of his actions now, Jean adjusted so that Marco’s teeth bit down gently against his bottom lip; he couldn’t help it when his eyes went hooded, only adding to the alluring effect of this constructed expression. He opened his mouth, deciding to let out a quiet, breathy gasp—of his own name.

This caused Marco himself to glance over (tearing his gaze away from the goofy, cross-eyed look he’d been messing with on Jean’s face).

Getting worked up, Jean swept the room to make sure everyone else was gone and then let out a keening moan. Turning to Marco, he sighed, “God, this is music to my ears. Er. Your ears? Whatever.”

Marco flushed hard; it was something different to stare into his own dilated eyes, watching his features slowly morph into a look of needy arousal.

“J-Jean!” he spluttered. “S-stop that! That’s really embarrassing!”

“Embarrassing?” Jean replied in Marco’s voice. “Nah, definitely not. In fact, why don’t you try it?” He leered. “Say something you’d want to hear me say.”

Marco gawked wordlessly at Jean for a long stretch, before rubbing a hand over his heated face and mumbling, “Oh, bother… I don’t know… Uh…”

Jean stepped closer, encouraging Marco with his attention. It was strange, true, to view his own face like this, but he was pretty curious what Marco would come up with now.

“Uh… oh.” The flushing boy exhaled and closed his eyes. “’Marco,’ I think you’d say. ‘God, I love you like this.’” He chewed his lip, then quietly continued, “’Yeah… Just like that... Sh-shit, you look so good—’” A soft groan. “’—f-fucking yourself on m-my cock.  _Fuck_ , c-come on... Come _on_ —’”

At this point Marco had moved to lean against the wall. He still had his eyes closed, focusing only on the sound of his words, apparently indulging in the sweet taste of Jean's voice in his control. His arms carefully unwrapped themselves from the defensive clasp he’d had them in, and Jean felt his mouth water as, slowly, Marco began to stretch… rub… strain against the wall.

“ _'Marco_ …’” The performance continued, the word drawn out low and hot. “’God, fuck, your ass is _so_ —’”

Jean shot a hand out, stilling one of Marco’s that had been straying tantalizingly downward.

“Okay.” He breathed hard. “O-okay, we need to get our own bodies back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. 
> 
> (Also, after this they wake up from a shared dream or whatever, intensely turned on and back in their right bodies and go at it like rabbits with Marco rubbing all up on Jean and Jean growling and chuckling lowly and moaning AHHH WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE YOU GUYS)
> 
> (Also sorry for the abuse of parentheses and other punctuation in my attempts to make this sort of understandable. Hope this was okay!)


	4. when you are the one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Legendaerie](http://lostlegendaerie.tumblr.com/)'s Prompt: dude can you have like. some adorable marco-taking-care-of-sick/injured-jean for us? like just something sweet and tender and precious omg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have made this fluffier, but in a way it’s sort of based on real life so I hope everything feels a little better after reading through it.

**Me (11:13): hey uh do u hv any cold medicine**

**Marco Hott (11:13): Yeah! Why?**

**Me (11:15): wokeu up feelin like shit. can u bring sm over?**

**Marco Hott (11:15 AM): Sure! Give me ~10 minutes, okay?**

**Me: (11:16): kk**

Jean groaned and rolled over in his bed, setting the cellphone and its glaringly bright screen back on his bedside table. At last, the display automatically turned itself off, leaving him to curl pathetically into his sheets as the dimness of his dorm room took over once more.

He really couldn’t believe his shitty luck. After having to work through three weekends straight, he finally had one without any tests or tournaments or calls to work the graveyard shift at the grill, and here he was, decimated by some weird-ass stomach bug.

Speaking of. His abdomen gave a sudden, twisting lurch that made the back of his throat burn acidly;  _fuck fucking shit_ _why_ this—

Jean heaved himself out of bed and, despite the utter lack of anything even resembling energy in his limbs, feebly crawled to the small bathroom attached to his single dorm. Having that bathroom to himself was a small blessing, if nothing else in his life. Well, the bathroom, and Marco.

Jean knelt, shivering, over the rim of the toilet. He fucking hated whatever shitty illness was in him, since it seemed to have teamed up with the common cold to give him a runny nose and dry, cracked lips, along with wriggling stomach cramps from the moment he’d gotten up. Why the fuck did it have to be like this?

He’d been kneeling in the bathroom for about five minutes when he heard the soft knock on his door, and only barely managed to croak out, “Come in.” The sound of the heavy door opening and closing thudded throughout the dorm room, followed by Marco’s hesitant, “Jean?”

“In here,” he rasped, even more weakly than before. Soon enough, his freckled, recently-acquired boyfriend poked his head into the bathroom. “H-hey, Marc—ungh.” Jean had to whip his head back over the toilet as suddenly, and truly unfortunately, he really started to heave.

“Oh,  _Jean!_ ” Marco gasped, dashing over to sit by him. “I’m so sorry, oh god…”

Jean spared a thought to be fondly exasperated at his boyfriend, because how was he feeling bad about something he had net-zero control over? Then all Jean could think of was the awful rusty-metal tang of his current experience.

Marco rubbed Jean’s back steadily, pressing a kiss to his clammy temple. “I’m so sorry you’re not feeling well, Jean. Here, hold on, let me—” And he got up, just to move a couple feet over and run one of Jean’s washcloths under the sink for a few moments. He returned immediately, draping the cool cloth over the back of Jean’s burning neck.

Jean sighed at the touch, before another surge made him bend over the rim and shake with tremors again.

“Jean… Oh, Babe…” Marco murmured, never ceasing his slow massage of Jean’s tense back. “Shhh, it’ll be okay…”

Jean tried to wipe his mouth, saying, “M-marco, seriously, you can just drop the medicine and head out.” He didn’t go on to explain his self-consciousness at having Marco see him being so gross, or so needy. In fact, he felt bad dropping this on Marco when they’d only just barely started dating a week ago. Wasn’t this, like, a married-person sort of thing? Jean could handle this on his own, really; he’d been cleaning up his own messes long enough.

Even if he could currently feel the shaky brittleness of his bones.

Marco just stared at him, brow furrowed like he could sense all these thoughts but not comprehend them. “Don’t be silly, Jea—oh!”

And as Jean jerked into another round of upchucking, that was that; Marco continued to whisper in soothing undertones next to his ear and rub deep, slow circles into his back, all accompanied by sprinkled kisses to his cheeks and brow.

At last, Jean seemed to have emptied whatever it was that wanted  _out_  of his stomach into the toilet. He lied, shivering, in Marco’s arms, with the freckled boy still cooing softly and running gentle fingers through Jean’s hair.

“Want me to get you some water?” he asked, carefully brushing Jean’s sweaty fringe away from his forehead.

Jean was still, then nodded almost imperceptibly.

Marco pressed another tender kiss to Jean’s cheek before doing as asked. Once Jean was taking small sips of the water, Marco drew the cold medicine out from the bag he’d dropped by the bathroom door. “Go ahead and take two now, okay?”

Jean blinked tiredly at Marco. “Mmhmm,” was all he could say as weariness crept back into his limbs. He imbibed the two small tablets with a “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem!” Marco responded. “As long as you start to feel better, I'm glad. You're too wonderful to be feeling any less than awesome." Marco emphasized his words with a warm smile, and even though Jean reflexively flushed a little at it, he also made sure to deliberately soften his gaze as it rested on his boyfriend. The gratitude was apparently clear, as Marco's cheeks in turn darkened. He let out a small, happy laugh. "It looks like you might want to rest some more, huh?”

Jean nodded faintly, and Marco guided them back to Jean’s bed with a pleasant chuckle. To the sick boy’s surprise, Marco even climbed under the sheets with him.

“Y-you’re sure? You might actually catch this,” he sputtered with confusion.

Marco shrugged sideways. “Just promise you’d do the same for me, hm?” Jean stared. “Or at least that you’d stay up watching Adventure Time with me if I were stuck in bed.”

“Mm. Deal,” Jean whispered quiety.

“Feeling any better?” Marco asked.

Jean hummed, already drifting off to sleep. Apparently that small cleansing had helped his insides settle immensely. He was awake and aware enough, however, to feel warm, solid arms wrap around his shoulders and nestle him close.

As a calm dimness settled over him, Jean’s last thoughts were on that cool washcloth pressed against his neck; on how no one had done that for him since he was six years old and crying in his dinosaur onesie while his mother dabbed at his feverish forehead with the cloth; and how, just maybe, he’d come to associate “safe” and “home” with those precious, freckled cheeks tickling gently under his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Jean wakes up again he feels way better but still not quite enough to actually get up and do stuff, so they stay in marathoning TV shows and Marco feeds Jean crackers and ginger ale and soup to help him really settle down.
> 
> My university has cancelled school for three days straight, and with all the free time I've been tinkering with the next update of Benvenuto, but _also_ ~~bored out of my mind~~ wanting to move some works over from tumblr because... well, making fluff more visible can't hurt, right?


	5. Erosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals time always makes me want to get even more off-task than usual. Sooooo... I'm transferring more stuff from my tumblr over here. If you follow me, this probably isn't anything new, heheh. 
> 
> One time, my astronomy homework got me inspired to write. woops. Funny how I have a test in that in about 9 hours.
> 
> I don’t ship Jean with anyone but Marco, so… even though Mikasa, Armin, and Eren are discussed here, you can probably tell where I’m going with it. sorry this is weird. idk. let me know what you think?

There are four forces that can shape the surface of the earth. Three of them are disruptive, and one of them, equalizing.

 

**I. Volcanoes**

They give rise to something primal; something hot, molten, and unrestrained that erupts into the air. With Mikasa, Jean feels magma scald his veins, and her breath makes words bubble to his lips.

But lava cools and hardens. She leaves him with the taste of ash and a brittle mantle of armor.

**II. Earthquakes**

They sweep through, leaving things upside down and inside out and heaped in ways you’d never think to see them. When Jean speaks to Armin, he’s never sure which one of them starts shaking first, just that he certainly can’t stay still. Not when he’s being cracked open and  _known_  to his core.

Of course, Armin reads his fault lines like he would a sentence in any of his books. Jean feels the aftershocks of their fight in the trembling of his fingers, the quiver in his cheek.

**III. Meteorites**

Outside the atmosphere, they’re foreign bodies: “meteoroids.” It’s only when they breach it, sparking and grinding their way through the world’s defensive barriers, that they burn brightest. Then, they are “meteors.” Jean can admit that Eren, bearing all that heat and pain and still pushing brilliantly through to him, leaves him breathless. Awestruck.

Only, it’s something else entirely (a “meteorite”) that hits the surface. And they hit hard. He and Eren just can’t stop colliding, pent up with enough velocity to scorch and scar and tear and crumple—

Jean curls in on himself (nursing a new impact crater).

And **IV. Weathering**

Wind.

Rain.

Slow shit like glaciers. Jean doesn’t think he wants anything so gentle and quiet as what the freckled boy across from him is offering.

But Marco’s smiles and laughter are as persistent as Jean is stubborn. He wears down the peaks of Jean’s arrogance, smoothes the furrow in his brow.

And when that’s done, Marco settles the remnants in the spaces left hollow, between Jean’s fingers. 


	6. "uncontrollable laughter"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i just wanted to add this here. Let me explain:
> 
> [thisismouseface](http://thisismouseface.tumblr.com/post/74143853772/all-the-aus-art-challenge) posted this prompt: "draw your OTP but combine literally all of your favorite aus so it’s like an epic picture of your OTP in a coffee shop at a college that’s also a high school but they’re in elven fantasy armor with mermaid tails and they’re also princes and they have super powers and one of them’s a lead singer in a band and the other one is a pizza delivery boy and they’re also playing an MMO together just fuckin go crazy follow your dreams (◕‿◕✿)"
> 
> and [kierlia](http://kierlia.tumblr.com/post/74630085258/all-the-aus-art-challenge) made awesome art to go with it
> 
> and I bandwagon'ed on to write ridiculous crack

Marco’s mechanical eye whirred, refocusing its lenses on the coffeeshop’s newcomer. His normal eye recognized the other immediately, though; how could he forget the face of such a famous celebrity as Jean Kirschtein, lead singer of the One-oh-Fours? Plus, Jean was his best friend in the whole world. 

"Marco!" Jean called, adjusting his gauntlet as he made his way toward the counter. "You ready for tonight’s double EXP event? And before you answer, you better not say that you’re going to be too busy arranging bouquets before the Valentine’s Day rush."

Marco laughed, then winced when his wings blew the papers of his astronomy notes onto the floor. He kept forgetting how they fluttered when he was happy. Casually using his ghost-telekinesis to right the stack, he turned back to Jean. “I’ve got to make one delivery—that stuffed crust guy ordered  _again_ —but then I’ll be on the server!” 

Jean’s tail swished in agitation. “Fils de pute,” he muttered, switching back to his native French. “Can’t that guy give it a break? He’s got to eat something other than pizza eventually!” 

"Don’t get too worked up over it, Your Highness," Marco answered cheekily. Jean huffed at the joke even as his crown sparkled under the shop’s mellow lights. Chuckling again, Marco asked, "Would I lie to you?"

"Well, even though you’re one of the best actors I’ve ever seen," Jean drawled, and Marco grinned at the compliment of his acting career, "I always seem to believe you." 

"Seriously, I’ll be on! If not, you can arrest me and everything, Officer." 

Jean snickered. “Don’t think I won’t! But okay, I’ll see you on at 9?” 

"Are we talking Earth time, or Mars time?" Marco glanced pointedly at the two moons rising outside the shop’s window, reminding Jean that it was already a bit late. 

"Earth time." As the door’s bell jingled due to an actual incoming customer, Jean glanced back to make sure that ghoul hadn’t followed him into the shop. Just a civilian, though. He hopped off the stool, did a perfect pirouette, and stood. "Guess I’ll let you get your work done," he said, leaning over to press a kiss to Marco’s cheek. 

"Get home safe! And make sure the campers don’t set the tent on fire again!" Marco called. 

Jean nodded as he mounted his horse, expertly guiding it into a trot. Tonight’s game was going to be so hella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also made a (really incomplete) [fic rec list](http://angels-in-your-angles.tumblr.com/post/75852682805/hi-d-can-you-make-a-list-of-all-the-aus-used-in-this) to explain the various references.


	7. What Better Way to Wake Up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [mellibells](http://melliebels.tumblr.com/): ">w> Prompt: jeanmarco shower sex ye"
> 
> My response: "ye. >w>"

“Marco… You’ve gotta get up.”

Marco blinked his eyes open blearily, peering through squinted lids at Jean before turning onto his side and curling into the sheets.

He heard Jean sigh before speaking a little more loudly, “Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Don’t you have class in an hour?”

Wanting nothing more than to burrow further into the warm bed, Marco only mumbled discontentedly in response to Jean’s question.

The bed dipped somewhere near Marco’s hip, and Jean put his hand on Marco’s arm gently. “Hey,” he started, “I know you were up pretty late finishing that paper, but you’ve gotta make sure you’re there to turn it in on time. So,” Jean slid one arm beneath Marco’s waist, the other beneath his knees. “Up we go!”

Marco’s eyes opened again as Jean hoisted him up, the still-drowsy man confused by the sudden shift of gravity. It wasn’t until after Jean had set him down on the shower mat that Marco realized he’d been carried, bridal style, into their bathroom. A thought drifted across his sleep-addled brain that Jean was lovely when he used his strength.

“Don’t tell me I have to undress you too.” Jean stared down at Marco disbelievingly.

Marco shook his head slowly and began to tug his cotton nightshirt over his head. He heard Jean start the water running, then step out of the bathroom, and within a reasonable amount of time Marco was standing under the heated spray.

He smiled softly as he felt the warm water soak into his hair, taming his bedhead into a smooth sweep across his face. What felt even better, though, was when Jean slipped into the shower and reached around Marco for the bottle of shampoo.

“I knew I couldn’t leave you alone for too long in here, or else you’d fall asleep standing up.” Jean looked at Marco, unimpressed, as the other boy simply shrugged. With a small roll of his eyes, Jean motioned for Marco to turn away from him, muttering, “You really need to stop editing other people’s papers if it just means you leave your own until the last minute…” Jean huffed quietly, squeezing a liberal amount of shampoo into his hand.

Marco let out a dreamy sigh as Jean started running his fingers through his hair. Tenderly, Jean massaged Marco’s scalp, making small, gentle circles, or else scratching against his skin ever so lightly, until he’d worked up a lather of the shampoo. As Marco took in the sweet, faint scent of pomegranate, he closed his eyes and leaned back just a little. He heard Jean give out a fond snort as Marco rested against his boyfriend’s chest… His boyfriend’s warm, gently rising and falling chest… fingers still sliding soothingly through his hair… the shower water hitting the tiles with a steady whisper…

Marco came back to wakefulness slowly. The shower was still running, and he could still feel Jean behind him, although he was shifting against his back minutely. Also, there was… a gentle pressure at his neck?

Marco let out a curious hum, eyes glancing to the side. He saw his boyfriend’s soaked mop of sandy hair, and the fine, foreshortened features of his face; his eyes were closed in contentment as he… Marco couldn’t see, but at last his dazed brain added the imperceptible movement of Jean’s head to the warm press on his neck, and he realized Jean was kissing him. Well, more like mouthing at him, lips seeking purchase at one point and sucking softly, tongue sliding out to catch at the warm beads of water, before moving down slightly and repeating the wet, lazy exchange.

Finally, Jean’s gaze slid to Marco, golden eyes glinting from under hooded lids. “It looks like I didn’t wake you up well enough before. Guess I'll just have to try harder…”

Marco wasn’t completely sure what happened at that point. His mind, already sluggish from sleep, was now assaulted by the hazy burn of both arousal and the shower. He let out a breathy gasp as he felt the wet glide of Jean’s muscles against him.

Heat from the steam pressed on his shoulders and face. Or… Or, was that Jean, licking a path up the side of his neck? He craned his head but could only barely glimpse Jean; the sensation alone was enough, however, to send a thorough shiver through Marco, as Jean’s tongue swept right over the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

Marco wondered if it was the pressured spray of the shower falling against his chest, or the deliberate pinching of Jean’s fingers making his breath pick up into desperate panting. The digits roved almost smugly across his pecs, circled teasingly around his nipples, wandered unhurriedly along his collar bone... Marco was always ready to let Jean wreak insanity with his deft hands, but he could never be prepared for the way they took advantage of the water to glide hotly, slickly,  _everywhere_.

His focus was tugged away again, though, by the firm, solid heat of Jean’s cock starting to press against his ass. Instinct helped Marco move despite the haze of steam and drowsiness and  _want_ , and he ground his hips smoothly, deliciously back. Jean must have liked that; all his movements stuttered, before he focused just on thrusting fluidly against the cleft of Marco's ass. Marco shuddered as the sensations blurred together: the flex of Jean’s bicep as he curled his arm around Marco’s waist; Jean’s breath mingling with the steam as he murmured filth by Marco’s ear; Jean’s teeth flashing in a grin as Marco moaned out his name and slung an arm up behind Jean’s neck.

Jean moved his lips against the shell of Marco’s ear, saying, “Maybe I should stop, hm? Wouldn’t want you to be late to class.” His actions completely contradicted his words, though, as the hand braced around Marco’s chest slid down to his boyfriend’s cock, stroking slowly.

Marco shuddered, panting, “N-no! Don’t stop, oh,  _god_ …” He felt Jean’s hand squeeze in response; the desperately needed friction made Marco dizzy.

Jean hummed smugly before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the juncture of Marco’s shoulder and neck, continuing to stroke his boyfriend languidly. His other hand moved from where it was wrapped around Marco’s waist, instead lingering across Marco’s clavicle, up his neck, and coming to rest at his jaw.

“I love you like this, you know,” he murmured, lifting his head slightly to nuzzle against the spot beneath Marco’s ear. Jean let one finger extend to press against Marco’s bottom lip, depressing it just barely. “When you’re completely undone for me.” He circled the finger casually around the wet, open “o” of Marco’s mouth, his boyfriend too blissed-out to respond to the gentle touch. “I can’t wait to work you open, slowly… To push inside of you while you scream my name…” Jean slipped the finger inside, letting it rest heavily on Marco’s tongue.

Marco tried to gasp in a breath, but it felt thick in his throat with steam. Shivering, he closed his lips around Jean’s finger and sucked. As Marco’s lips slipped further up the digit, tongue sliding around it warmly, Jean groaned in appreciation and ground his cock especially hard against Marco. The movement set Marco off; he let out a shuddering gasp and Jean’s saliva-coated finger slipped from his lips. 

Jean grunted, moving his now free hand to grasp at Marco’s hip, while the one stroking Marco picked up its pace.

"Jean," Marco keened, chest falling forward against the cool tile. “S-stop, I want to… Let's fuck,” he panted.

Jean paused, and Marco could practically envision his eyes widening. Maybe he didn't really expect Marco to want to go that far right before class. “Y-yeah. Yes, let me just—yes,” he replied with a rasp. He withdrew briefly to fetch something from a bathroom cabinet.

Marco was much more awake than before, but still just slightly out of it. He let his mind go hazy as Jean kissed down his back, first at the nape of his neck, then between his shoulder blades, the small of his back… Jean coated his fingers in something cool and even more slippery than the water, and then pressed them into Marco carefully, slowly.

The next part didn’t need to take long, but Jean took his time with it. Like he’d said, he loved watching Marco ease into accepting first one, then two, then three of his fingers, pumping and stretching them into the lax muscles. He knew exactly what his lover liked by now. Jean pressed his fingers in and out, again and again, before crooking them just _rightrightright_. Marco was whimpering and panting in his hands, rolling his hips back to try and take Jean in deeper, water dripping from his full, parted lips.

“Jean… Now…” he gasped, thoughts a mess from the pleasantly cool touch of the tiles on his flushed skin mixed with the insane, sweet heat in his stomach.

“Mmm, Marco,” came the strained reply, “I know. I… I just…”

Marco felt Jean slip his fingers out and whined, but immediately Jean was tugging lightly at his arm, guiding him to face the other way with his back now to the tiles.

“I just wanted to see you,” Jean finished. His eyes roved appreciatively over Marco while he slicked up his cock, and that sight in turn made Marco’s breath catch.

“Ready?” Jean murmured, nudging Marco’s legs apart as he lifted him against the wall.

“God, yes,” Marco replied with a breathy laugh, wrapping his legs around his boyfriend. “I needed you in me five minutes ago.”

Jean chuckled weakly as he aligned his cock with Marco’s entrance and settled his hands on Marco’s hips. Finally, he shut his eyes and pumped  _in_.

“J-Jean!” Marco let out a stuttering cry. The last wisps of fog left Marco’s mind as he felt Jean steadily fill him. Jean had stilled for a moment, letting Marco adjust, his heated eyes locked on his boyfriend’s face. 

Marco tilted his head back and breathed deeply, letting the shower spray wash over him and pool in the dip where their bodies met. 

A roll of his hips signaled Jean to move again, and the two of them fell apart into gasps and moans, water splashing around them. Marco hissed as his back slid against the tiles, their chill temperature achingly perfect against his burning skin. As Jean thrust in and out, rhythmically, over and over again, Marco’s breath hitched before sliding into a sweet moan. He practically screamed, though, when Jean rocked up into him even harder in response, and Marco felt the slick flex of Jean’s abs against his own thighs and cock. He frantically tightened his legs to bring his boyfriend in closer; he needed Jean everywhere, and felt lightheaded as hot steam and water pressed against his skin anywhere that wasn’t rubbing wetly against Jean.

Gradually, Jean’s movements started to stutter. He pressed searing kisses anywhere he could reach between his rasping breaths. Marco could only shiver, arching his back even though he was met with the unforgiving tile wall at that point. Jean’s cock, his hands, his tongue, his eyes and his arms—it was  _too much_.

“Jean, I’m—” Marco gasped, and Jean hummed from where his mouth was working a mark into his boyfriend’s skin. With a shaking hand, Jean wrapped his fingers around Marco’s twitching cock and stroked as evenly as he could, until finally, Marco came truly undone in his arms. The resulting quake of Marco’s body, combined with his obscene, echoing moan, made Jean finish with a drawn-out gasp.

It wasn’t until several minutes had passed, the two of them now sitting entwined on the shower floor and letting the warm water wash over their practically thrumming bodies, that Marco spoke. “Jean.”

The other lifted his chin from Marco’s shoulder, eyes sliding over lazily.

“From now on,” he whispered, “I want you to wake me up like that every day.”

Jean laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I don't know. Crossposting is fun. 
> 
> Anyway, the other thing about these is that I didn't think they warranted separate posts here on AO3, thus their inclusion in this subcollection.


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